


The Halloween of the Reaper

by OverSupport



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Spooky, sort of serious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 07:57:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8437606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverSupport/pseuds/OverSupport
Summary: The Overwatch Halloween Party is going well (for dysfunctional mercenaries in a Halloween Party) when things take a turn for the worse.Reaper's there to crash the party, and he's more powerful than ever.Now improved to be a lot less boring and a bit fluffier.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this was released so late (on Halloween). I started another fic, realized it was bad, and typed this.  
>  ~~No time for proofreading yet, so maybe check back in a bit?~~  
>  Major Edits: New and Improved! It was kinda intense for a Halloween thing. I added some more jokes/comic relief, made the parts that were supposed to be tense stand out, and did other edits just to make it sound better. So now it's not the rushed mess I tried to shove out while simultaneously getting the house spookified for trick-or-treaters.  
> Oh, and there's a Pharmercy fluff epilogue now.

The Recreation Hall bustled with the various sounds of Overwatch agents, almost masking the sound of a whoosh muddled through a space-time bend.  Tracer stood at the doorway watching the people she’d witnessed the horrors of war with genuinely having a good time.  She started down the hall and noticed the four old comrades looking into a room set up simply with a small table and a few chairs scattered around.  Lena leaned against the wall outside to listen in on the conversation.

“...Of course, it was at a Halloween party such as this that I told my greatest tale,” Reinhardt paused (as usual) for dramatic effect.  “ _ Junkenstein’s Revenge! _ ”

Torbjörn chuckled at the table, a viking hat shaking on his head.  “I  _ personally _ remember when you broke a dining table because Reyes put on a costume.”

The knightly figure took on a slight shade of red at that, but Soldier offered, “He still has an imposing figure.”  Tracer’s eyebrows raised.  Reyes had died years ago when-

Ana bursted out laughing.  “Jack, he looks like an edgy teenager!  I mean-” She leaned forwards, acting unconvincingly serious. “If that’s what you’re scared of…”

Lena leant forwards, already losing interest, started walking towards the most fun-looking room.  Her feet thumped quietly on the floor as she made her way towards the music of the main event.  She felt a mass collide with her side, and arm lock around her neck, and a fist grinding into her head.  “This is what you get for making me wait fifteen minutes for you!”

She laughed as Lúcio released her.  “Oi, it’s not like it’s easy to get in these things,” Tracer said as she gestured towards her Gulf-liveried jumpsuit.  “Besides, it’s not like we were racing- Well, even if I’m dressed for it.”

He chuckled and followed Tracer as she continued on her way down the hall.  The narrow corridor opened into a large multipurpose room, which was now the main site of the party.  Lúcio winced as the music of Hasselhoff reached his ears.  He shouted, “I think Reinhardt may have made a few…”  A guitar riff blasted through the speakers.  “ _ Modifications _ to the playlist.  I’m gonna go fix that.”

She gave a little salute as he skated of, calling “Seeya!”  Strolling to the drink stand, she grabbed a beer, not caring to look at what type she chose.  It was all the same to her.  Turning, she observed the general commotion of the party.  Zenyatta and Bastion conversated in a muddle of beeps, boops, and synthesized speech.  McCree and Hanzo were admiring the craftsmanship each other’s weapons.  Genji’s blade sliced through a block of ice, revealing an intricately carved statue much to the delight of Mei.   Lena saw Zarya and Pharah in deep conversation.  Angela Ziegler approached from behind, wearing her ten-year-old witch costume (an advantage of not aging that Tracer had also discovered), which was also just a  _ bit _ revealing.  At a break in the conversation, Angela made her presence known with a “Hello!”  Pharah turned to greet the doctor midway through a sip of beer, promptly choking on it as she saw more of the doctor than expected.

Angela leaned down next to the doubled-over soldier with a concerned look on her face.

“Fareeha, are you okay?”  She smirked.  “Don’t die, I haven’t done CPR in years.”

Pharah cleared her throat and stopped coughing for long enough to deadpan, “I might just need mouth-to-mouth.”  Angela turned an obvious shade of red and took a step back.

Lena almost burst out laughing when suddenly, the lights went out.  A whirr sounded through the base as every system of the base suddenly shut off.  The only light sources in the base were the various glows of Overwatch members.  The old four ran into the room, 76 with a light in his mask shining ahead.

His stony voice called out the question everyone was asking themselves.  “What the hell is happening here-”

“It looks like the party’s over…” A scratchy voice echoed through the base.  It was easily recognizable as Reaper, but…

Something was  _ different _ .

* * *

 

Angela saw Pharah reach swiftly to her back and her hands returned holding a compact pulse pistol.  Zarya shot her a look.  “You really need to learn to relax…”

“I’m always prepared.”

Tracer chimed in, “She has a point.  That’s the best we have right-”

The voice echoed through the base.  The grating, ominous sound sent a shiver down Angela’s spine.  “You can  _ bicker _ later.”  The room went silent.  “Good.  I figure I should explain my little visit.  You see, something about the nanobots that-” Anger crept into his voice for a moment.  “ _ Torment _ me…  Some hidden potential is unlocked in them sometimes.  I’d say...”

The window shutters crept upwards from the lockdown state they had fallen into during the power shutoff as Reaper talked, and a small gasp escaped Angela’s mouth as the finished their ascent.

“Once in a blood moon.”

Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked, then ran out of the room.  Footsteps of various sizes followed her.  Ana called out from behind, “What are you running from?”  Immediately, the completely rational but unneeded fear left Angela’s head.  She was Mercy, the angel of protection, and, in this case, the only one who knew what was happening.

Her feet slid to a stop on the floor, and various bumping and shuffling behind her signalled the rest of Overwatch had, too.

“Reaper has gained control over the nanobots keeping him alive, and judging from the powers he’s having, the ability to create more. I felt a shift, I’m guessing in the magnetic field because of the moon, but I didn’t consider his bots.”  She looked over the disturbed faces of her friends.  “Right now, we need to get our gear.”

That was the definitive order, and the many agents kicked into motion.  Some veered off to rooms to grab equipment, and 76 shouted, “In the hangar, ASAP.”  He then moved off towards his own quarters to pick up his light gear.  The whole way, Pharah led with her gun up and anyone who could fight followed close behind.  It was near the entrance to the hangar that Angela stopped.  This time, most everyone ran by, but Genji stopped next to her.  “What troubles you?”

“I just thought,” Angela said reluctantly, not quite wanting to accept the truth.  “That maybe the Battle-Omnic might end up in the lead instead of Fareeha.”  Genji’s hand was on his blade before the first shot rang out from the hall behind them.  His blade whipped through the air, shielding both him and Angela as they backed into the hangar under the hail of bullets.

Overwatch was under attack by the most powerful foe they may have ever taken on, and they were spread over at least a square kilometer of base.

Jack had just picked up his pulse rifle when he heard the first shots ring out from the other side of the base.  Swearing under his breath, he peered out of his door, gun at the ready.  He  _ almost _ jumped when the dark voice sounded through the halls again.

“So now you know that I can do anything I want, right under your noses.”  The tone of a bully that had just stolen some lunch money was apparent in his voice.  “Your Bastion has been compromised, no thanks to Sombra.  But Bastions aren’t all I can possess…”  The lights flickered on for a split second and the wind shifted ever so slightly.  In a second, the usually composed voice of Sataya screamed through the base. From Tracer’s room down the hall, he heard a quiet, “What the  _ hell _ was that?”

The voice continued, “Even better, I’ve found that the bots have the capability for some aesthetic changes as well.  You will be exactly what I want you to be.”

Enough was enough.  Jack Morrison marched loudly out of his room, and turned in the general direction of his enemy’s voice.  He shouted, “Why are you doing this, Gabe?  What do you expect to get from us?”

He felt the wind swirl around behind him as the lights flickered again.  He turned to see fiery eyes in the cloud of smoke billowing through the hallway.  “Revenge, my old friend.”

Reaper, in his Headless Horseman-esque glory, raised a hand.  Where Jack expected a gun as usual was an open hand.  A black swarm flowed from it, engulfing him.  A blue streak flashed down the hall.  “Oi, why don’t we  _ shoot _ him-”,Tracer said as she unloaded her pistols on the shadowy figure.  “-Instead of just standing around…”  His shadowy arm was riddled with holes, half-destroyed.  Then it simply grew back.  Reaper turned his head to face his assailant.  With a movement of his hand, Tracer was knocked to the floor under a swarm of bots.

Morrison tried to lift his gun, but it was held down.  Darkness swirled around him.  He stared into the eyes of his old enemy until he didn’t have the eyes to look.  The Soldier fell, and when he rose, it was as the servant of the Reaper.

* * *

 

Her spare MEKA suit dropped from the ceiling, hitting the padded floor below with a  _ thud _ .  As Hana climbed in, her holographic game, a mobile port of Lost Vikings, started up at full volume.  After a few uncomfortable seconds of simultaneously trying not to lose, pausing and quitting the game, and bearing the stares of her colleagues, Hana’s mech was fully functional.

Next to her, Reinhardt and Fareeha resumed slotting together their armor.  Pharah equipped her armor with expert precision, while Reinhardt almost fell on his face  _ twice _ trying to get his leg armor on.  Zarya put her suit on, throwing on her Siberian gear to leave less skin exposed.  Genji sat on the floor with Zenyatta, and they discussed the possible implications of Reaper’s newfound power in future battles.  They must have been looking on the optimistic side, considering there might not  _ be  _ future battles.

And Ziegler was typing on a computer next to her Valkyrie suit.

Pushing her joysticks forwards, D.Va’s suit clomped forward to the doctor’s position.  “What are you doing, should you not be getting suited up.”

Angela shook her head.  “I need to reprogram my nanobots to counteract Gabriel’s, it’s the only chance we’ll have of actually stopping them.  Your guns could hold them off for a bit, especially that Defense Matrix, but you won’t be able to take on all of them.”

She typed in silence for a few seconds, before she took her hands off of her keyboard.  Hana wondered what was going on until she noticed Angela’s body shaking periodically.

“Angela?”  She slid out of her mech and walked to the doctor to see the moonlight gleaming on her tear-streaked face.  “What’s wrong?” She slid down next to Angela and put an arm around her shoulders.

“I don’t know what I’ve created… I don’t know why I saved him… Is this what I’ve worked so hard for?”  She let out small phrases when she could stop the sobs racking her body.

“Angela-”  Hana thought for a second. “Mercy.  That’s what you are… What you  _ do _ .  You do all you can to have mercy on the ones you love and even the ones you don’t.”  She glanced over at Genji.  “You’ve gone into every operation doing the person you’ve known a favor.  For people like Genji, it can be a second chance at a life wasted.  You knew Gabriel wasn’t really ready to die… You just didn’t know what bringing him back would do-”

She was cut off by the sound of a tide of nanobots on the blast door, which had slammed shut with the small bursts of energy in the base earlier.  Hana glanced back at Angela to see a determined expression on her face.  She wiped the tears from her face with a sleeve, nodded, and stood to put on the Valkyrie suit with a fire no one had seen in the time since she rejoined Overwatch.

_ Well, _ Hana thought.  _ She’s gonna kick his ass. _

* * *

 

Lúcio’s skates ground as he pushed down the corridors as he (for once) led the remainder of Overwatch roaming in the base’s corridors.  Some others were in the hangar, and a few might have been trapped in a small weapons depot, but most of what was left was with him.

Except for Tracer, Soldier, and Symmetra.

_ Lena. _

He muttered under his breath as energizing tunes blared from his speakers, announcing the group’s presence to anyone who thought they could stop him right now.  He’d heard  “I swear to  _ God _ , I will murder that son of a bitch if he hurt Trace-”

His skates skidded to a stop.  The commander’s figure loomed in the hallway ahead.  He would be relieved to see him.

If not for the fact that 76 didn’t “loom”.

“Everybody,”  Lúcio said calmly.  “Get to cover. Now!”

Not a second too soon, the hallways were clear as a pattering sound of rifle-fire echoed through the halls.  A helix rocket launched straight past Lúcio’s cover and into the ground, blasting in front of two doorways.  Two thumps sounded, one after another.

“You guys okay back there?”

A small groan.

“Okay, I’m coming through!”

“I’ve got you covered,” Ana responded.

As he rounded the corner, Lúcio was met by a hail of bullets.  His skates left the floor for a second before grinding on the wall.  He made a quick leap to the other to avoid the adjusting aim, but he couldn’t outsmart the bullets.  Before he could even register the first shot, he was lying in a pool of his own blood.  The only things keeping him alive were his music and biotic grenade from Ana.  He looked up to see 76.  But it wasn’t him.  He had no eyes, just black voids where they should have been.  His skin was pale, and his face in a wicked smile.  Reaper’s voice echoed through the base.  “You cannot fight me.  Just give in.”

A whistle pierced the air and a sleep dart found its way directly into the monster’s neck.  He plucked it out without a blink, and dropped a biotic field that released a swarm of dark bots that enveloped him, Lúcio, and the unfortunate Junkrat that had jumped into the hall to make his rescue attempt.

* * *

 

There was no hope of saving them at this point, so Ana decided her best chance was to go to the hangar.  Using the dark swarm to her side as cover, she rounded the doorway and snuck off down the hall.

Amari’s cloak billowed behind her as dashed down the hall silently.   _ Grandma’s still got it _ , she thought.  In the distance, Ana saw a red visor in the hall.  With a tap of a button her mask was down, and she rolled into the darkness.  The Shrike lined up a shot with the possessed Symmetra’s visor, ready to do anything for a chance to get by.  A flash of light next to her, and a ghostly apparition of Tracer laid on the ground beside Ana.  She groaned and turned her rifle with no real hopes of escape.  A hand reached out and buglike robots swarmed her.

* * *

 

McCree, Mei, Hanzo, Torbjörn, and Winston milled in the weapons storage room.  The bots whittled at the door, and there was no way to stop their progress.  Mei tightened every tube that could be tightened on her endothermic blaster as she tensely waited for a hole to form in the one entrance-and exit- of the room.  The slamming of Torbjörn’s hammer and clinking of McCree’s gun spinning were driving her crazy, but she didn’t feel like telling them to stop.  Snowball buzzed around her with a concerned expression.  “It’s okay,” she whispered as she patted it.  “We’ll be fine, Doctor Ziegler will probably find out how to stop this.  Zarya will keep her safe until she does.”

Of course, she and Zarya had ended up in different rooms.  It would have been great to be with her for this, if only for the energy shields, but she had to admit that they weren’t in as bad of a position as some people on the base, with weapons that might have a chance against an enemy like this.  When all hell had broken loose, they were already in the weapons storage room.  No one felt guilty about closing the door on everyone else because it did it on its own.

The weapons rack she had spaced out looking at now glinted slightly.  She turned to see a small patch of white hot steel on the door.  She aimed her blaster at the area, and her voice came out as a trembling squeak as she asked, “Winston, are you ready.”

A low grumble came from the gorilla’s chest as he cleared his throat.  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Suddenly, the door gave.  Mei’s finger was on the trigger before she could even think, and a good number of the bots fell to the floor deactivated due to the extreme cold, and the rest were electrocuted.  As more and more poured in, Torbjörn and his turret started sending a hail of projectiles at the door that carved small paths of destruction.  Hanzo’s scatter arrow sent a wave of blue light through the swarm as the many bolts cleaved through.  More and more came through, and soon every one of them were at their peaks.  As both her, snowball, Winston, Torbjörn, his turret, McCree, and Hanzo sent hell at the door to no avail, she wondered,  _ How many of these things does he  _ have _? _

“I could do this all day- Or night, I guess- if you’d like.”  Reaper stepped through the swarm, taking no effect from the bullets.  He motioned his towards Mei, and the swarm followed.  She screamed, still holding the blaster as a lifeline, as the nanobots forced their way towards her.  Suddenly, McCree yelled, “Eyes closed!”  Mei did as he said and a bright flash forced its way through her eyelids.  She opened her eyes, still shooting the trail of bots, to see that he had gained them a second at most.  Winston’s barrier opened in front of her, and the bots spread over it.  The bots pounded relentlessly at it, and Reaper stepped through.  No one even bothered shooting him, and Torbjörn even deactivated his turret.

“Hmm… How nice.  I’ll make this quick for you.”

“I’ll make this quick for  _ you _ .”  Winston set his glasses carefully on a shelf next to him before roaring and, with electricity flying across his body, plunging through the shield.  Lights flashed for a solid five seconds as the cloud was battered around the room until it finally had its victory.  The shield blinked a warning.  Reaper looked down at it, then back up.

“I’d say your time’s up.”  The barrier went down and the horde went in.

* * *

 

The nanobots in Mercy’s suit had been reprogrammed to attack any others they came in contact with.  She only had the Caduceus staff, her blaster, and the Valkyrie, while Reaper had a horde.  However, he had technology a (average) high schooler could make at this point, while she had the newest nanotechnology there was, since she  _ did _ invent it after all.

Angela could tell that they were the last ones left holding the base.  There was no more gunfire, and no more screaming outside of the heavily fortified hangar.  But even in the huge area, with thick steel walls and huge dropships, she didn’t feel safe.  The ship turrets trained on the door and manned by Genji and Zenyatta.  She could hear their conversation between the ships.

“Master, you’re sure using weapons like this doesn’t go against our code.”

“My motto has always been to use what is given to you in a time of need.”

She glanced at the door as a dissident sound emerged, the horde hitting another layer of harder material.

Angela loudly remarked up to the two makeshift gunners, “And what a time of need it is.”

Considering the size of their enemy, most weapons couldn’t make a dent in the attacking swarm.  This time the medic was going to do the damage.

She readied her staff as the hissing of the door grew more apparent.  The gunships’ turrets whirred above her as they readied to fire.  Fareeha put a hand on her arm, and Angela turned to her.

“You ready for this?”

She looked bewilderingly at Fareeha, who rolled her eyes.  “You know what I meant.”

“No.  I could never be ready for this.  I’m not sure I could face what I created even if I had the advantage.”

They stood in silence, staring at the door for a few seconds, when Pharah turned back to her.  “Angela, I-”

The telltale grinding sounded, and they both snapped back to the door.  Pharah raised her arm and a small missile popped from a hatch.  “Guns ready?”

Comms were down, but a faint “Yoshi!” could be heard from one of the ships.  The rocket launched, and the tide was released.

It sounded as if hell itself had been released when, simultaneously, turrets fired at over a twenty rounds per second, Reinhardt launched a huge ball of fire that cleaved into the darkness, Pharah blew through the horde with her launcher, Zarya let out a stream of energy that sliced directly through the cloud, and Hana’s defense matrix tried to keep up with the constant stream of bots.  Then there was the silent destruction that was Mercy’s staff.

Her golden stream of lights weaved through the darkness, while a small shield held it back more efficiently than and of the other weapons.  But still, they were on the retreat.  Reinhard’s energy shield incinerated the light barrage of Reaper’s army getting through the barrage of Overwatch’s remnants, but a shot flew through it and scratched off of his shoulder plate.  Angela muttered, “ _ Verdammt _ !”  

She flew up to the access panel on the back of Reinhardt’s armor, keeping her staff trained on the enemy, before correcting his shield programming.  After a few seconds of frantic tapping on an age-old interface, the shield popped as it stopped incoming fire.  The shield was soon pounded by the part of Overwatch that hadn’t made it through the attack.  Small cracks formed in the shield as it was hit by the widest variety of munitions it had ever been under fire from.

The shield went down, and Zarya’s barriers went up.  They didn’t last long, and Reinhardt gave a salute before charging into the horde, yelling “For Overwatch!”  As his voice faded, a path was cleaved that gave the others long enough to retreat.  Angela noticed that their support from above had stopped, and turned her head to see the blackness flooding into the cabins of the ships.  As the light of Zenyatta’s transcendence filled his cabin with enough energy to destroy the bots as they attacked, a shout of “Ryūjin no ken wo kurae!” came from Genji’s ship, a green dragon cleaving through the horde.  However, both of these didn’t last forever, and the swarm closed in on both of them after a few short seconds.

Zarya and D.Va were being quickly overtaken by the swarm, and Pharah turned to Mercy.  “You need to go.”  She slotted a concussive rocket into the launcher.

Angela’s face darkened.  “I’m not leaving you-”

Fareeha pulled her in and Angela felt another pair of lips against her own.  Before she realized what had happened, Pharah, still smiling, had blasted her into the air with the concussive blast.  

Angela got her bearings with some difficulty as she tumbled through the air and extended her wings to stabilize herself, before activating a thruster burst to send her to her target.  She muttered, “That stubborn little-”  She almost sobbed, so she stopped talking.

Putting a foot out, she landed on one of the carriers in the room, now around fifty feet over the battlefield.  She saw D.Va’s guns stop firing from the midst of the horde just as Pharah launched herself into the air above the enemy.  The swarm curved up in a perfect column towards her as she tapped a button that opened every rocket hatch on her suit, releasing a stream of explosions that shook the room.  She had decimated every bot that got within ten feet of her before the suit finally ran out of rockets.  Angela saw her eyes close as she fell almost blissfully into the darkness.

After it was done converting her, the tempest turned on Mercy, a wave rushing across the hundreds of feet between them.  There was no fear left.  No anxiety, only a cold fury.  With a voice multiple times louder than she had ever talked, she commanded the flurry of movement in front of her.  “Stop!”

Any human would have been stationary in under a second at the command, but, strangely enough, the nanobots obeyed it too.  As the cloud swirled under her, Angela saw her former friends in various states of being.  Tracer’s figure wavered, almost disassociated but more powerful than ever.  Reinhardt’s head floated above his body, burning with a blue flame.  A wicked smile adorned Ana’s mask, hiding what lied underneath.  And there was Pharah, flames burning from every crevice in her armor, once lively eyes stared blankly.

Reaper strode out of the crowd, wearing something reminiscent of his old Halloween costume but with a more imposing figure and flaming eyes.  “You can’t win this one, Ziegler.  You created me, but you can’t control me.”  His voice rang out, a cocky edge to his voice.  That was it for Angela.

“You think you’ve won, Gabriel?”  She walked forwards, floating down towards the floor.  A flash of gold moved over her eyes.  “Well, I have news for you.”

She lifted the Caduceus staff and her free hand, golden waves pouring from the reservoirs on her suit, the staff, and from her body itself.

“ _ Helden sterben nicht! _ ”

A golden tide crashed down on the darkness below.  The possessed raised their weapons, but a new tide of glowing bots, converted from Reaper’s army, washed over them.  They began to morph back into their former selves, as if recondensing back into reality.  Soon enough, they were all their old selves, albeit dazed and confused.

All that was left was Gabriel, staring dead ahead.  His garb looked a bright yellow in the light, and he waited for the waves to move in on him.  They didn’t.  Carefully, he backed out of the room.  No one followed.  So the Reaper left, defeated at his time of peak power, and in that completely destroyed.

“Well, ‘ell, you  _ destroyed _ him!”  Tracer’s voice echoed around the room.

“Ain’t that right!” Junkrat replied.

Mercy sighed as the unfazeable heroes began to spin stories of their adventures and the volume of the room was brought to a dull roar.   _ The Halloween of the Reaper _ would become Reinhardt’s favorite.  It was the most true and exciting tale of all his true, exciting tales.

* * *

 

Angela’s heels clicked as she walked down the hallway.  The grinding of metal and bashing of hammers filled her ears as she neared the site of the mutilated blast doors and the reconstruction process that had just been started (discreetly shipping military-grade doors took a while).  Passing this, she turned towards her office to continue some work on anti-nanobot weapons when a small knock caught her attention.  Turning, she saw Fareeha leaning on the wall in her casual clothes:  Jeans, a bomber jacket, a t-shirt that fit just a bit tight-

“You’ve been working for days, Angela.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What, do you want Halloween to happen again?”

Pharah winced.  “Good point, but you’d work better if you took a break.”

“What do you have in mind?”  Angela’s face went a bit pink.  That wasn’t  _ quite _ the way she had meant to say that.

A sly smile crossed Fareeha’s face.  “Whatever you want.”

She smirked in turn.  Maybe that _was_ the way she had meant to say it .


End file.
